


Sugar High

by starrylizard



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor, Pre-Series, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 14:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam had a way of taking things too literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar High

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stars91](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Stars91).



> The prompt from Stars91 was for _pre-season, baseball bat, sugar, library card._ Sam is 7 here, so I think that makes Dean 11. Beta read by Rinne. Any mistakes are mine. All comments, constructive criticism and corrections are welcomed.

Sam had a way of taking things too literally, of landing them both in trouble while Dad was away, but it was never on purpose; Sam was just a seven year old trouble magnet.

This time Dean woke to giggling, and giggling at – Dean looked at his watch – 6am was never a good sign. He groaned and let his eyes fall closed, only to open them again to see Sam's face up close and personal, so close in fact that his little brother looked like a one-eyed monster. Dean recoiled, sitting up with a curse. "What the hell, Sammy?"

"It works! I tried the salt first, but- " Sam made a face, crinkling his nose in disgust, "-sugar Dean. They were using sugar and they're doing it all wrong. It hurts if you use your nose."

"What?"

"In the movie. The white powder. See."

Dean followed Sam with his eyes only, as his little brother crossed the hotel room and sat at the one small table. The kid was jiggling, barely able to sit still.

"See, Dean? Look."

On the table in front of Sam were Dad's shaving mirror and several small packets of sugar. Sam carefully tipped more sugar onto the mirror and started cutting it neatly into lines with his library card, before sucking them up with a straw. He turned back to Dean and grinned.

Dean groaned. Perhaps he hadn't turned Scarface off soon enough. Dad was gonna kill him. He'd just have to let Sam work off the sugar high and hope Dad wasn't home before he crashed.

"They weren't snorting sugar you dummy. It was drugs and you're not supposed to do drugs. Ever! Now you're just hyper. Come on, stupid!"

Digging out a battered old baseball and bat, Dean pulled on his clothes and grabbed Sam by the wrist, dragging his brother outside.

000

John scrubbed at his tired face as he stepped out of the bathroom, clean-shaven and free of dirt for the first time in what felt like weeks. He smiled as he heard the door open in the next room and slam shut, the sound accompanied by two excited voices caught mid-argument.

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is so too."

"Hey boys. Am I interrupting something?"

"Dad!" Sam dashed into John's legs, gripping him around the middle.

"Hey Sammy! Dean." John nodded at Dean, while rubbing a hand through Sam's too long hair.

"Dad." Dean nodded back.

"You been good?"

"Yeah."

"What you got there?"

Dean was clutching a pamphlet and, at his Dad's question, he unrumpled it, holding it out.

"It's a drug education thing they're doing at school."

"Good. Got any questions, ask me, all right. Drugs are dangerous. I don't want either of you to take anything that's not given to you by me or a doctor."

John watched, bemused, as Sam looked back at Dean, big grin plastered on his face and Dean tried hard not to laugh.

"Dean?"

"Yes, sir."

Sam started to giggle and Dean pressed his lips tightly together, obviously trying to control his own mirth.

"Care to let me in on the joke?"

Dean snorted a laugh and tried not to look at his brother who was by now giggling so hard that he was sitting on the floor at John's feet. Then Dean lost it, giggling too.

"Come on boys, what?" John couldn't help but laugh as well, a wide smile on his face as he watched his boys laughing uncontrollably, and he resigned himself to the fact that he may never get the joke. But, to be honest, he didn't really mind.


End file.
